


Marginalia or: Quote with Caution

by Himmelreich



Series: Makishima's Book Club [3]
Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Gen, Makishima's Book Club, Writer and Editor AU, book snobbery, minus murder and mayhem, quote game, you know the usual makishima stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 16:51:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2739878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Himmelreich/pseuds/Himmelreich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>There had been an almost superstitious fear of taking over Senguji‘s latest author. He was a new client of their publishing house with only a few but promising short stories published in different magazines under his belt, so in this regard, he was not that unusual. Yet, the dark and disturbing tone of said short stories and the little information that was known among the office about the man, from his unwieldy name that was not even a pseudonym to the fact that he flat out refused to submit any pieces of his manuscripts in anything but handwritten copies as if it was the last century and had never set foot into the office, instead insisting on meeting somewhere else, instilled the editors with a vague feeling of dread.</i> </p><p>Writer & Editor AU with Makishima and Kougami, as requested per a meme on tumblr. Or, to shamelessly copy Toboso Yana's fake-preview style:<br/><i>An editor who gets assigned a new client, and an author who does not abide by normal standards. In a world where the perfect manuscript is the only way that leads to success, will these two reach understanding?! A thrilling tale taken right out of the real publishing world!</i><br/>(... or not.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marginalia or: Quote with Caution

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meguri_aite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meguri_aite/gifts).



> [My dear deer](http://meguri-aite.tumblr.com) requested "writer and editor au, bookclub members of your choice (but Makishima is begging to be star in it :D" for a meme on tumblr, so here goes!
> 
> EDIT: Now with the most [wonderful illustration](http://regnumcaelorum.tumblr.com/post/105220754983/izumisays-im-sure-makishima-thinks-his-is-an) ♥

„I‘m telling you, the way it is now won‘t do.“  
„Hmm.“  
For a moment, there was only the soft chime of a spoon stirring against porcelain.  
„Senguji-san has never seen a problem with this integral part of my writing style.“  
His voice was a notch too sweetly, the implied criticism of Kougami‘s obviously mistaken views coming across clear as day.  
„Well, I‘m not Senguji“, Kougami stated flatly. Being compared to that man was the last thing he wanted right now, especially after that incident hat had brought him here in the first place.

Senguji Toyohisa had been a senior editor of their publishing house, and while Kougami had had little to no contact with him as he mainly spent his time around his own friends in the department, he had respected the other man‘s experience in the business and occasionally asked him for advice about one thing or the other. All of that had changed when Senguji had shown up to the office two weeks ago in a frenzy, wearing a hunting dress and carrying a toy shot gun, and had loudly declared himself to be the Prince of Wales and asked for people to join his fox hunting party. He had scared half the staff to death before Kougami and Kagari had arrived and managed to wrestle him down while Ginoza had called the police, who had promptly taken him straight to the psychiatric ward of the nearest hospital. The official assumption for the man‘s apparent loss of sanity was Burn-Out Syndrome and him having overworked himself, probably enhanced by some previously unknown medical condition, but nevertheless, there had been an almost superstitious fear of taking over Senguji‘s latest author. He was a new client of their publishing house with only a few but promising short stories published in different magazines under his belt, so in this regard, he was not that unusual. Yet, the dark and disturbing tone of said short stories and the little information that was known among the office about the man, from his unwieldy name that was not even a pseudonym to the fact that he flat out refused to submit any pieces of his manuscripts in anything but handwritten copies as if it was the last century and had never set foot into the office, instead insisting on meeting somewhere else, instilled the editors with a vague feeling of dread. No-one ever voiced out loud that it must have been this author that had driven Senguji over the edge, but everyone seemed to secretly think it. Two weeks had been spent stalling, some hoping that Senguji would make a miraculous recovery, others diving into their work with their own authors, until finally a very annoyed and exasperated Ginoza had announced that he was fed up with this ridiculous superstitious nonsense, and that if no-one would step up to take over Senguji‘s author, he would „a) randomly assign the task to someone and b) cut the entire department‘s upcoming New Year holidays by a day“. In the collective shocked silence that had followed this very effective threat, Kougami had raised his hand with a sigh and offered to take over that damn author if that made Ginoza happy. While he had only received an eraser thrown at his head in response, Ginoza had seemed less grumpy than usual during their lunch break and had for once not complained about him smoking afterwards, so apparently he had been grateful after all.

Kougami had not really minded, actually, as his primary author was currently in a bit of a creative slump, which made him even more snide and cynical than usual, and while they had built a genuine friendship over the years and Kougami highly admired the man, he could do without impromptu lectures about the horrible state of the world for a day or two. So he had called Saiga-sensei to cancel their regular meeting for this week and instead dug up the email address of his new project from Senguji‘s surprisingly immaculately organised files and suggested coming over to his place at 3 p.m. the next day to introduce himself as the new editor and go through the latest manuscript submitted. To his surprise, the reply to his mail had come almost instantly.  
 _„Very well, I shall be looking forward to meet you, Kougami-san. MS“  
_ What had been even more curious, however, had been the vaguely familiar quote in the section usually reserved for a simple signature with contact information of the sender: „ _We are full of encounters, encounters without duration and without farewells, like the stars._ “  
Kougami had leaned back in his swivel chair and stared at the manuscript on his desk with renewed interest. Only the first part of it had annotations by Senguji in it, and shoving aside the thought that that poor man most likely would never finish his work on this book, he had opened it on page one, taking in the orderly and neat handwriting, markers and pencils ready for his own comments, and started to read.

Seven hours, five cups of black coffee, and a slight headache later, he had decided that Makishima Shougo had to either be the single most sophisticated or the most ridiculously pretentious human being he had ever come across, even in writing. It had been hard to determine with the little information he had on the man, lacking any biographical notes and even a picture, and he had still been debating the question as he had set out at noon the following day to make his way to meet this strange person. While keeping in mind that judging a person before meeting them probably was not good tone for an editor, he could not help but automatically try to grasp Makishima‘s personality, intrigued by his writing style and his seemingly weird behaviour alike. He had blamed this thought process on his psychology studies, but if anything, it had been a good way to pass the time on the long train ride. Makishima obviously was not a penniless writer, given that he lived in one of the modern high-rise buildings just outside the city centre, one of those where you had to pass a concierge who announced your arrival to the person you wanted to visit. Kougami had never thought much of all this old-fashioned display of grandness, instead preferring his own place where he had full control of things over this air of business, but nevertheless had thanked the woman behind the desk kindly and taken the elevator up to one of the top floors.

Makishima Shougo had already awaited him at the open door at the end of the short dim hallway and asked him inside with a smile. In the daylight of his spacious, bright apartment, Kougami had been able to get a first good look at the man, swaying his assessment firmly into one direction. He looked every bit the part of a vain, pretentious Bohemian, from the half buttoned and crumpled white wild silk shirt, lilac linen trousers and canvas shoes, all of which definitely were not fitting the season outside the windows at all, to the uneven haircut that was too symmetrically uneven and purposefully disheveled to be anything but the result of a long and likely expensive trip to the hairdresser‘s. He had gestured Kougami to take a seat on the white leather sofa in the centre of the room while he had taken care of Kougami‘s thick winter jacket and scarf. The glass table in front of the couch had been laid out with two fine chinaware cups and a teapot as well as plate with some sort of pastries, he had obviously been expected. A quick glance over to the open kitchen that was at the far end of the room had confronted Kougami with the regretful lack of a coffee machine, so he had accepted Makishima‘s offer of pouring him a cup of tea instead, taking a careful sip as the other man had slid into the armchair on the opposite side of the table.

„So, Kougami-san, tell me, what did you think of the manuscript?“, he had started, picking up his own cup, crossing his legs and tilting his head a bit to the side in a way that should have looked like overdoing it and putting on airs, yet for some reason he could pull it off. There was some sort of aura surrounding him that demanded respect and gave an indisputable impression of strength, the kind of which Kougami had experienced before only with opponents in the Pencak Silat tournaments he had taken part in in the past, and it was one more thing that had spoken against the assumption that this person was entirely for show.  
„Your work is, for lack of a better word, unusual“, Kougami had begun carefully, putting his cup down and taking out the folder from his bag. Criticising an author‘s work was always a risky undertaking, and he had quite a bit of comments regarding Makishima‘s manuscript, and not all of them favourable.  
„I can already tell you do not mean that in a positive sense.“ Makishima‘s smile had not wavered in the slightest, but there had seemed to be a new intensity to his gaze. „What did you not like about it? Please be as honest as you can be.“  
Kougami had never intended to sugarcoat his words, and for some reason, that comment had fuelled the lingering sense of irritation the other man instilled in him rather than motivate his honesty.  
„In general, I liked the manuscript - you obviously have an impressive way of handling language and you manage to maintain a good balance between flowing narration and more concrete descriptions and dialogue, and I think the world you created and the rules it operates on make for a very intriguing setting. Before we get to the details about the characters and story and such, however, I have one major problem, and that‘s your constant references to other works.“

There had been a moment of stunned silence in which Makishima had only stared at him incredulously to the point that Kougami had started feeling slightly uncomfortable after all, then, after a small cough: „I‘m sorry, could you elaborate on that? I don‘t think I‘m following.“  
„You rely heavily on allusions and references to other writers in your book“, Kougami had started, glad to have an excuse to evade being stared square in the eyes, instead focussing on flipping through the manuscript. It was riddled with green page markers, each of which indicated a case of intertextuality.  
„As it is a common tradition in literature, I still fail to see what you think is wrong with that.“ Makishima had sounded genuinely confused.  
„It‘s not a problem per se, but you overdo it, especially in regard to the potential readers. From Kafka to Bentham to Shakespeare to Nietzsche to Proust to Foucault, you allude to an incredible amount of texts and writers of different professions, nationalities, and time periods, you can‘t really be expecting everyone to understand every piece of it.“  
„Well, I consider this kind of discussing and including other people‘s works as integral to my story as I do to my everyday life, and I‘m sure there will be some that share my point of view.“ His tone had still been courteous and light, but Kougami could sense him digging his heels into the soil on the matter, just as he had feared.  
„Be that as it may, but your novel in tone and story is more intended to be popular fiction than a disquisition on philosophy and literary history, so unless it happens to be a well-educated everyday reader, they will miss out on the subtext of your work, while those who might be able to understand it most likely wouldn‘t bother reading it because of the set-up and tone of it in the first place“, Kougami had elaborated as gently as possible. „I‘m telling you, the way it is now won‘t do.“

Trying to aggravate him by comparing his views and skills to that of Senguji was obviously a cheap jibe intended to make him drop his point, but Kougami was not that easily thrown off his opinions. Instead, with a sigh he continued his argument.  
„You expect your readers to have near all-encompassing knowledge of the Western canon. That would be asking for much even on the European market, but you are still publishing in Japanese under a Japanese publishing house, so-“  
„So you suggest I cancel my contract with you and take after Joseph Conrad, publishing in my second language in a different country instead?“, Makishima interrupted him, a misplaced exhilarated smile on his face now.  
For a second, Kougami considered simply saying „Yes“ and leave, if only to rid himself and their office of this troublesome author, but he could imagine just how well Ginoza would react to the news of him returning only to declare he had scared off a promising new contracting party in an act of childish defiance, so instead he brought up his hands in a half-hearted gesture of peace.  
„That‘s not what I meant, I merely advise you to keep your audience in mind while you‘re writing. You obviously are able to make all the connections in your head, but your readers won‘t, so I imagine your book as it is now to be quite a difficult and frustrating read for those unfamiliar with all the works you allude to.“  
„I don‘t write aiming to become a widely read superficial popular fiction phenomenon, Kougami-san“, Makishima explained slowly, carefully setting down his cup on the saucer, before reclining in the chair again, folding his hands in his lap and regarding Kougami with full attention, all traces of his previous ironic and smug undertones disappeared as if they had never existed.  
„That‘s exactly what a publisher does not want to hear an author say“, Kougami retorted, and Makishima gave a small chuckle before falling back into his serious tone.  
„‚If there is a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, you must be the one to write it.‘ That was my initial motivation to take up the pen myself and try my hand at what has to be without doubt my greatest passion. Publishing it came secondary to me, so you may be right in thinking of my writing as fairly egocentric in that aspect.“  
  
Kougami blinked and looked back to the manuscript spread out on the table again, looking a terrible amount of work for a second thought decision. He gently flipped through the pages again before looking back at Makishima.  
„So why did you decide to publish it, then? There have been authors who decided to keep their works to themselves and only had them published posthumously, too - not that I wish you an early death, of course.“  
„Of course“, Makishima gave a lopsided smile at that, „but there‘s some truth to the notion that you can‘t really write without a reader, the same as you need someone else for a kiss. It‘s both about wishing to share a more intimate part of oneself with others.“  
Kougami merely made a noncommittal hum at that and tried to look anywhere else than Makishima‘s mouth. He was quite sure that this man was capable of talking people into all sorts of things casually like that with utter confidence, as he looked entirely innocent even using this slightly embarrassing simile.  
„So, if my book finds even one reader that can appreciate it the way I feel about it, too, then I‘m more than satisfied with its success. Also, if everyone read the same thing, even if it was my book, they would all think alike, too, and that would just be boring, wouldn‘t it?“  
„That‘s one small scale goal you have there, then“, Kougami shook his head with a smile. „I can‘t help but think that‘s a shame, and wonder if its current inaccessibility to the general public will be met with that one person you are hoping for.“  
„Oh, but it already has.“ Makishima shifted his position, leaning forward with his forearms propped on his knees now, staring at Kougami intently from beneath his messy fringe. „You seem to be able to follow my line of thought and all the references in the manuscript with ease, Kougami-san.“  
„Well, I‘m not exactly the average reader“, Kougami felt his voice grow slightly hoarse with embarrassment at the unexpected praise and leaned a bit back on the sofa to put some distance between them. „I majored in Classic Literature additionally to my main Psychology degree back in the day, so I have quite the different starting point from most readers of the genre.“  
„An unusual combination of subjects, many would say.“  
„It really isn‘t. Psychologists had to write their findings down in texts and every writer attempting to recreate lifelike human beings in their stories could never hope to succeed without at least a rudimentary understanding of the human psyche, and be it subconscious. You cannot have one without the other. And reading itself encourages us to view the world in new and challenging ways and develop a more conscious understanding of empathy, so I kind of turned a hobby into my profession“, Kougami replied almost automatically, feeling a strange feeling of nostalgia mixed with excitement over being able to discuss something like this again with someone else than his professors back at university. It was only after he had ended his short rant that he noticed Makishima regarded him with an expression of contentment and approval, as if he had just passed some sort of exam.

„You certainly know what you‘re talking about regarding literature, then, so I‘ll try to cooperate with you to make the book, how did you put it, more accessible to the generic reader? I refuse to rid my work of the quotes, though.“ Makishima leaned back, crossing his arms in front of his chest and shot Kougami a challenging look.  
„Some might accuse you of simply using this amount of quotations to cover the absence of original thought“, he goaded in response, starting to enjoy this battle of words that was a refreshing change of pace from his usual editor clients.  
„And yet, with our literary tradition, it has all been done before, there is nothing new under the sun - all I can try to do is to rephrase and rearrange the thoughts of those that proceeded me and blend them with what I myself am thinking“, Makishima countered smoothly without missing a beat.  
„It‘s hard to argue with your logic“, Kougami admitted and decided to try a different route. „Let‘s say we keep all the quotes in place and just try to make them themselves more accessible, so that people become aware of the subtext?“  
„How would you go about that, though? Do you want me to include a glossary in the annex or footnotes?“ The taunting undertone was clearly back to Makishima‘s voice now, but Kougami simply shrugged.  
„Well, that‘s one option, and certainly easier for the reader than having to dig up everything themselves with no lead to follow. Also, as you certainly know, that would sort of follow the tradition of critical editions, in a way.“  
„Only I would be doing that for my own work instead of someone else‘s, which is pretentious of sorts“, Makishima snorted, „Any other ideas?“  
Kougami decided not to mention he thought of Makishima‘s general writing style as pretentious enough, not wanting to destroy the other‘s attempts at cooperation so soon after they had sprung into existence.  
„You could of course also try to incorporate it more clearly in the text itself.“  
„That would either mean the characters themselves stating the quote or references out loud every time for no good reason, or you would demand the use of a Watson type character that needs to have everything explained to them in detail - neither of which makes for pleasant reading experience in my book.“  
„Certainly the overuse of either technique will be tiring to the reader, and also make the omnipresence of your intertextuality even more, well, obvious to everyone“, Kougami acknowledged. „However, used in moderation, I think it would help. Even less literate readers will pick up on the quoting that way, and if they have a few examples and names to go by, they might be more willing and motivated to read further into the matter, even without a glossary. And since your story itself revolves around the main character learning to think for herself and question her environment with some occasional guidance from others, I think that kind of helping with the intertextuality would also make sense on a meta-level, you could tune it down as the novel progresses.“

For the third time ever since he had arrived, there was a long stretch of silence following his words as Makishima simply regarded him wordlessly, fingers absentmindedly drumming on the armrest. Kougami used the break from unexpected lecturing to drink some more tea and pick up one of the pastries, madeleines, he assumed, by the looks of them either done by Makishima himself or some organic bakery. Either way, they were delicious. He was just about to relay his compliments to Makishima as the other man refocussed, cleared his throat and rose to his feet.  
„That is a very interesting idea, Kougami-san. It never occurred to me to use the level of intertextuality to underline the heroine‘s growth in such a way, so I really am thankful for your input.“ His smile was genuine now, and Kougami could not help but feel both proud at the having gained the problematic author‘s respect that quickly regarding their business connection and strangely happy about having managed to seemingly have the other man warm up to him on a personal level.  
„Well, it‘s both my pleasure and my job“, he simply replied with a smile of his own and started putting the manuscript back together and stowing it in his bag.  
„I shall start on going over the text immediately, so excuse me for so abruptly ending our session, it‘s just I need-“  
„Peace and quite to write, yes, I can imagine“, Kougami laughed as he stood up as well and headed for the door.  
„That exactly.“  
Makishima fell easily into stride with him and then helped him shrug back into his winter coat in a slightly misplaced act of gentleman’s behaviour among two men, but Kougami did not argue.  
„I‘ll send the revised manuscript to you as soon as I‘m done, it might take a few days, though“, he said with an apologetic smile as Kougami turned back to face him, buttoning up his jacket. His eyes bristled with motivation, though, and Kougami did not doubt that it would be most likely a productive evening.  
„Take your time, I‘m in no hurry yet.“ Kougami dug in his pockets and produced his package of cigarettes, fishing out one to light on his way to the station.  
„You‘ll spoil your tongue for the tea.“ Makishima regarded him with a small frown, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.  
„I guess that damage is done already“, Kougami laughed. „Maybe that‘s why I mostly drink the plain office coffee nowadays.“  
„I‘ll make sure to have some coffee prepared for our next meeting, then.“  
There was no need for further words as Kougami nodded in a final goodbye with a smile and left the apartment to head back to the office.

It was only after the train doors had shut behind him that Kougami realised that in their entire hour of conversation, they had not talked once about the few simple practical mistakes in Makishima‘s manuscript he had indicated with blue page markers in preparation for their meeting, minor slips of pen regarding some difficult kanji, small inconsistencies regarding the tense, or the fact that Makishima used the word „therefore“ too much. The kind of oversight that could have been settled without starting a debate on principles, but maybe that was exactly why they had not talked about it. He texted Makishima on the train ride, telling him he would send him a comprehensive mail with all the spelling mistakes from the office, and that they should talk about certain word usage at some point. As with the first mail, the reply was almost instant.  
„ _I shall be looking forward to another meeting soon, then. I thoroughly enjoyed our discussion today, and am looking forward to working with you, Kougami-san._ “  
Kougami couldn‘t help but smile a bit, ignoring the judging stare of the elderly man across the aisle who muttered something about „young people and their technological devices“, instead concentrating on typing his reply.  
 _„‚I would never read a book if it were possible for me to talk half an hour with the man who wrote it.‘ See you around, Makishima.“_

**Author's Note:**

> It‘s no Book Club fanfic unless there is an abundance of quotes, so here is a list of all those used in some form in this text, certified non-MLA standard but I honestly couldn‘t care less  ☆ヽ(・∀・ )ﾉ
> 
>     „We are full of encounters, encounters without duration and without farewells, like the stars.“ ― Wolfgang Borchert: _Draußen vor der Tür._
> 
>     „If there is a book that you want to read, but it hasn‘t been written yet, you must be the one to write it.“ ― Toni Morrison.
> 
>     „I can‘t write without a reader. It‘s precisely like a kiss - you can‘t do it alone.“ ― John Cheever.
> 
>     „If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking.“ ― Haruki Murakami.
> 
>     „But reading, and particularly the reading of fiction, encourages us to view the world in new and challenging ways. […] It allows us to inhabit the consciousness of another which is a precursor to empathy, and empathy is, for me, one of the marks of a decent human being.” ― John Connolly: _The Book of Lost Things._
> 
>     „A facility for quotation covers the absence of original thought.“ ― Dorothy L. Sayers.
> 
>     „It has all been done before; there is nothing new under the sun.“ ― _The Bible_ , Ecclesiasties 1:9.
> 
>     „Everything sage has already been thought before, you can only try to think it again.“ ― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.
> 
>     „I would never read a book if it were possible for me to talk half an hour with the man who wrote it.“ ― Woodrow Wilson.
> 
> Additionally, I may or may not have stolen bits of Robert Pattinson‘s line in the Twilight audio commentary about „ _The most intense form of pretentious dishevelment I’ve ever seen in my life._ ”, because that description just screams Makishima to me.  
> And finally, I think you can all guess what book Makishima is writing, haah. ~~I‘m so original and clever orz~~


End file.
